152

I was the first one in, taking a deep breath. Her perfume lingered in the air, the delicate yet exotic scent floating into my nostrils. I could bury my face in her neck for hours, enjoying the closeness and nothing else.

“If she left, her computer wasn’t important enough to take with her,” Weston said in passing.

He moved past me, quickly looking in other rooms while I moved towards the laptop that remained on the coffee table.

As I sat down, I noticed she’d written notes on a piece of paper meant for writing songs. As I pulled it into my hands, a knot formed in my stomach. I didn’t need to try and break her code for her computer. It was obvious she was searching about the night of the tragedy and anything else she could find on us, including about the university.

Parties? Was I at a party?

Black clothes. They wore them all the time. Like Christian?

Kennedy. Was she my roommate?

Prince Albert piercing. I’ve experienced one before. Or have I?

Did someone die?

Is my father an assassin? Clinton’s brother.

“Shit.” Where had she been given the idea that her father was a killer? She’d obviously spent a significant amount of time researching every scrap of information she’d managed to find. It sounded as if it was a recent revelation, not something she’d carried with her for months or years.

And there was one line even more troubling and telling.

Is it true what the anonymous person said, that they are killers?

I’d bet everything I owned on the fact that she’d been played just like we had. That meant someone else suspected who she was.

It was obvious she had more questions than answers. There was no structured path in the information she’d found, the notes random. There had to be at least twenty more of them. That didn’t seem like the activity of a criminal mastermind, but a girl fearful that she didn’t know what she’d dropped in the middle of.

Weston returned to the room. I noticed his expression had become grimmer than before. “She didn’t take a suitcase, but it’s obvious she left in a hurry.”

I inhaled, wanting to process what I’d read before mentioning it to him. “She knows about Clinton’s brother.”

“Fuck. If Maria is Ava , then she has to be terrified of us already.”

“Do you blame her?”

“No. Goddamn Clinton and his bullshit.”

“This is what the perpetrator wants to happen. They’re leaving breadcrumbs for her to find.”

“So she can expose what happened. They won’t need to finish the deed,” Weston snarled, fisting his hand.

“We can’t sit around waiting for that to happen. Check her drawers, the closet, everywhere she could be hiding something else.” She was desperate for answers, although at this point, she didn’t seem to be worried if we found out what she’d learned.

“Do you think she’s really Ava ?”

“The jury is still out but I’m beginning to believe it’s possible. It’s also possible she was caught up in a horrible game. We need to make certain one way or the other. But the nightmares she mentioned. With people experiencing head trauma, sometimes it takes years for memories to return, if ever.”

“Which means her parents had the opportunity to insert a new life in replacement of the old.”

“Yeah.”

Weston exhaled. “This is some fucked up shit. You know Clinton is likely not to care even if we can find proof of her innocence.”

“What makes you think I give a shit about what Clinton thinks?” My tone was full of anger, although not directed towards either one of my buddies. I was finished with being jerked around like some goddamn puppet.

He opened his eyes wide, then grinned. “At least you and I are on the same page. I don’t plan on letting Maria get away. She’s the only reason I’ve fucking smiled for years.”

He was serious. I couldn’t blame him. I wanted her with me. Fuck. I loved the girl. Admitting it to myself was a surprise. Admitting it to the other two wasn’t necessarily something I wanted to do.

“From what I can tell, Maria managed to find an article on what happened that night. She wrote a few notes down.”

Weston walked closer. “If my memory serves me about the events, her parents were adamant that her name remain out of the paper. I think they used a false name to try and keep reporters from finding out exactly what happened.”

I sat back against the couch, folding my arms behind my head. “That’s right. I’d forgotten about that. We were definitely not allowed to see her.” I thought about what he’d just said and took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out. “Perfect. Her parents had the perfect opportunity to disappear permanently. Let everyone believe she’d died.”

“Brilliant.”

“Assassins do it all the time. Because they had a daughter, which was unexpected, The Iceman couldn’t operate under his usual methods. Her accident was the chance to be able to do so. They just disappeared, selling the fake business. It was done so quickly I was shocked. Did you go to her funeral?”

“No, did you?” He seemed surprised.

I allowed my memories to return to a place I never wanted to visit. “Yeah. I stood on the hill far enough away they didn’t see me. I watched them bury her body. Then I turned my back and tried to pretend it didn’t happen.” I was off everyone’s radar then, returning to South America at my father’s request.

“Fascinating. What if she’s following in her father’s footsteps?”

I laughed. “She’s a rockstar. I doubt she’s sidelining as a hired killer.”

“That’s not what I mean. What if all this is about revenge? What if she believes we were the ones who tried to hurt her? These nightmares might be providing some details, yet warping the events.”

“We did try and hurt her, although not like Theodore.”

He sighed. “Not like the bastard. He was out to get to us through her. We talked big back then, Cris. We weren’t monsters.”

“Weren’t we?”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is karma’s way of forcing us to atone for the part we played in destroying her life.”

“She just discovered the additional pieces. She was lured here just like we were. I’m positive of it.”

“Then she’s scared blind and can’t trust us.”

If Maria was Ava , then at least she’d managed to enjoy a life similar to what she’d wanted. The signs were all there that Ava was alive, but none of us would have known if she was lying about it instead of not remembering her former life.

“One thing we do know is that Theo’s father had something to do with the recent article.”

Weston shook his head. “No, we don’t. Remember the reporter refused to reveal his source. Let me make some calls and see if I can find anything. If Xavier Summers changed his life again, there won’t be an obvious trail.”

A thought entered my mind. There was one place she could find all the answers she was seeking. “Maybe check with the airport and see if she took a flight.”

Weston blinked, then a look of understanding crossed his face. “To see her parents. Good idea.”

“As far as Xavier, if Maria is Ava , then you know his current last name. However, if I had to guess, if she confronts them, her parents will disappear again.”

“And take her with them?”

“Maybe.” We couldn’t allow that to happen. I couldn’t lose her again.

“We’ll get her back.”

“Let’s hope to hell we do.”

As Weston pulled out his phone, I glanced at the notes again. With what she’d found and if her dreams had provided false information, if Maria had no idea who she was, she’d be convinced she should hate us.

And I couldn’t blame her in the least.

I moved around the suite, even checking in the small kitchenette. There was no smoking gun. There was also no evidence that she carried a weapon, and she certainly didn’t have a little black book full of names. I laughed to myself for even thinking she could have anything to do with the plan of attack.

Unless she was being used.

Just like she’d been ten years before.

I headed into the bedroom, eyeing the nightstand. As I walked towards it, Weston ended a call.

“She flew out to San Diego.”

I’d been right. “To see her parents. Goddamn it.”

“Should we follow her?”

“If we’re right, Weston, we’re the reason she has no accurate memory. She deserves the truth about her identity, which she should only hear from her parents. However, learning what happened that night should only come from us.”

“If she’ll listen.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds. Then I opened the nightstand. There were several folded pieces of paper similar to the ones I’d found near her laptop. As I pulled them into my hand, we both heard Clinton returning.

I read through page one. Then the second one. Then the third. My cock ached, my balls tightening. I could feel my blood pressure rising, the need for her as all-consuming as it had been ten years before. Maybe more. We were kids then.

“What is it?” Weston asked.

After I handed him the pages I’d read, a cold chill drifted down my spine. “A dark story that sounds very familiar.”

“Ah, shit,” Weston said as he lifted his head. “There is no doubt any longer. Maria Sadler is Ava Summers.”

“Yes.” I barely got the word out before Clinton came in the room, pushing Halo’s manager.

“Her assistant, Emerald, is gone. Checked out of the hotel,” Clinton snarled. “What the hell do you know about this, Brett?”

“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you, and get your filthy hands off me.” Brett tried to jerk away, but Clinton had a firm hold on the man’s shoulder.

I walked closer, glaring Brett in the eyes. “What do you know? It will go much easier on you if you tell us everything you even think you know.”

“You can’t threaten me.”

“Brett. I think you know who I am and realize that all the stories about me are true,” Clinton said quietly, more so than I would have expected.

Brett wiped his mouth, then nodded. “What do you want from me? First, I get some weird call from Maria demanding I tell her exactly why this resort was chosen.”

“What did you tell her?” Weston asked. He nodded to Clinton, handing off the story. Then he moved behind and in front of the bedroom door.

Brett craned his neck and shrugged. “That I wasn’t the one pushing. Emerald was. She discovered the opportunity and thought it was perfect. I couldn’t argue. For the money we were being paid, it was a no brainer.”

I took a deep breath. The shit was starting to come together. Unfortunately, the three of us had been played like a fiddle. “What else did Maria tell you? Think carefully.”

Obviously exasperated, Brett started to sweat. “It wasn’t a long phone call. She acted very strange. She said she was being used. I thought she meant by the other band members. They don’t always get along.”

“Anything else?” Weston growled.

“No. Okay? What is this about?”

Clinton lifted his head from reading the story, his face expressionless. “Mr. Rollins. You’re going to need to cancel the next few shows.”

“Wait. We have a contract. I’ll see your ass in court if you try and pull us now,” Brett snarled. “The crowds love us. The press loves us.”

“Shut up!” I snarled.